Glass Mirrors
by xGlowingAngelx
Summary: [A 3 Chapter fic]. The thoughts and feelings on Mercedes' decision to have an abortion from the 3 people most affected by it.


**A/N:** _This isn't a one shot, it's a 3 shot!. It's from the P.O.V's of the 3 people most affected by Mercedes' revelation that she's pregnant through to her decision to have an abortion. _

_Also, I want to add, this fic isn't meant to cause any offence or upset. I am in no way suggesting this is what anyone goes through in this situation. I cant say I know what exactly a person may feel in this situation. I am merely a writer hoping to write a well written fic. _

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hollyoaks, or anything related to this storyline. Not even the characters are mine, sadly.

**Glass Mirrors**

_Mercedes._

It feels like a bad dream. Like I'm tossing and turning, watching the world spin around me and having no control over stopping it. I glance at the clock on the bedside table. _3:21am. _I pull one half off my pillow over my head and close my eyes again, willing for sleep. But that sickening feeling keeps me awake. Keeps my world spinning out of control around me. .

I can feel the cold emptiness of a lonely bed beside me.. I wonder how it's possible for one person to make a bed so warm. I wonder why I was selfish enough to allow the one person I did have to get so badly hurt. I wonder why I allowed him to walk out of my life, even though I felt I had no choice.

I reach my hand to my stomach, without even realising so, and lightly brush my hand over it, feeling a oddly unsettling comfort at having somebody else with me. I don't know why. It's not like I ever wanted this to happen. It certainly wasn't something I planned. Then again, isn't that always the way life goes?

'Well? Who is it?' Mum's voice filled the living room, as she cast her eyes on each of us one by one. 'It better not be you' she said, pointing an accusing finger at Michaela, who was sat with a disgusted look on her face. 'Ewww, no. That's well mingin' she replied, as if getting pregnant was some manky disease. I roll my eyes.

'It could be Tina's' Carmel stated. Mum shrugged. 'It would make sense. She is a Newlywed after all...'

'Doubt it' Michaela chipped in 'She's too busy being a geek and kissing Mr. Webster's butt to have time to... _you know'_ Mum smacks her across the back of her head. 'Haven't you got school to get too missy?' she asks. Michaela smiled triumphantly. 'Free period' she stated. Myra laughed sarcastically. 'Nice try. School you' she pulled Michaela up from the sofa and edged her towards the front door. Once her youngest daughter was gone, she seated herself back on the sofa.

'Well it must be one of you...' she said, casting her eyes in turn of the remaining 3 daughters. 'It's hardly going to be me, is it?' Jacqui said, her voice cracking ever so gently. Carmel looked at Mum blankly.

'Alright, it's mine' my voice chipped between the other 3. For a moment, I am painfully aware of them all staring at me, silently questioning me.

Carmel has a confused expression on her face. 'Is it Russ'?' she asked. I snort gently. 'No chance.' I hadn't realise just how much it would hurt me to say that. When I imagined having kids, I imagined it being with my husband, and I certainly hadn't banked on it happening so soon. My palms are sweating furiously, so I tuck my hands between my knees, hoping I didn't look as uncomfortable as I felt. 'The who?' Carmel asks, a little more pushy this time. Realising she wont give up, I roll my eyes and shrug my shoulders. 'I don't know. It was dark. I didn't have time to get his name'. I immediately regret saying that as I realise how dirty that makes me sound. I hear Jacqui tut and my heart breaks. I wonder if she'd think I was even more of a slapper if she knew the whole truth.

I feel the sofa dip slightly as Mum moves to sit beside me. I don't look her in the eye. I look anywhere else - the floor, the kitchen, the living room table - anywhere but directly at her. I don't know why I'm so nervous, it's not like she thinks I'm a virgin. I feel her hand clasp around mine. She uses her hand to turn my face to hers, just like she always does when she wants answers. For the first time, I notice Carmel and Jacqui are no longer sat on the sofa opposite me. I don't have time to ask where they have gone. Mum's eyes are burning on to me.

'Talk to me' she says, half pleading, half asking. I take a deep breath. It's now or never...

I told Mum everything. Well, not _everything._ I didn't tell her who the father was, despite her constant questioning. I claimed it was nobody she knew and asked her to leave it at that.

Once I'd finally managed to escape to my bedroom, I notice Jacqui is lay on my bed. She is facing the other way, so I can't see her, but I know immediately that she's crying. He knees are curled up to her chest and her arms are tucked underneath her pillow. I was sure she hadn't heard me walk in the bedroom, so I leave quietly and head to the bathroom as quickly as possible, where I manage to be sick for the third time that day.

It hadn't been what I'd expected. I'd walked into the house and found Jacqui sat on the sofa. It's more than obvious that she's been waiting for me. For what reason, I am not entirely sure of. I try to escape upstairs before she has the chance to question me, but the weight of her gaze makes me crumble and I slump onto the sofa, preparing myself for a lecture from her. She takes a deep breath and, for a minute, I don't think she's going to manage to say anything.

She starts talking about the baby she lost and how she can't have children. As much as I understand how hard this must be for her, I can't quite understand what this has to do with me having a kid. Then she says it: She wants to bring my baby up with Tony. As selfish as it sounds, my initial reaction is a feeling of anger. Does she think my baby will be a compensation prize for not being able to have her own? Then I remember that I don't possibly know how that feels.

I think of Tony bringing the baby up too, and try to weigh the pros and cons. If I allow them to bring the baby up, he or she will be with their father, although they may never know it properly. Tony will be able to tuck his own children in at night, something he has craved since Grace's death. But I realise soon enough that the cons seem to outweigh the pros. Yes, the baby will be with their father, but they wont ever be able to know the full truth. I wonder how he or she would feel a few years down the line if they ever discovered the truth. Would they hate me for giving them away? Would they hate Jacqui and Tony for taking them away? Or would they thank them for taking them away from a slapper of a mother. I can't say I'd blame them. I wouldn't want me for a mother.

But that doesn't stop the look of disgust that seems to wash over my face, or the sickening feeling turning my stomach. I say something I don't actually think through and then I head out the door, mumbling something about needing fresh air. Once outside, I steady myself against the wall, before I manage to fall any deeper.

I hadn't meant to end up where I had. The truth was, even as I was getting onto the bus, I wasn't thinking straight. I scanned for an empty seat, preferably by the widow, but as I look around, I'm certain everyone is staring at me. I feel my legs turn to jelly. Do they know what I've done? Do they know what I'm about to do? I end up sitting on the very front seat, not able to face walking down the bus to find somewhere and have more eyes watching me. The last thing I need is more people judging me. No matter what they say, nobody judges me more than I do right now.

I stare out of the window, so lost in thought that I almost miss my stop. It isn't until someone knocks into me that I am snapped from my thoughts. I realise I am where I aimed to be. I remain seated for a few seconds, making sure I am certain this is what I want. Concluding it is, I climb from the bus as steady as possible. Trying not to let the wobble of my legs pull me down.

I reach the clinic eventually. Despite the doubts niggling at the back of my mind. I walk inside, and I feel faint almost immediately. There's something about the crisp white walls and the squeaky clean floors that makes me want to throw up again. Makes me feel dizzy.

I walk towards the woman sat behind the desk at reception. She looks up at me, and I look at the expression of her face, wondering if she was looking at me in disgust. Knowing what I was about to do, does she judge me? But she simply asks for my name. 'Mercedes McQueen' I state, and then realise a lump has formed in my throat. Despite having been separated for a few months, I still hadn't quite gotten used to no longer being Mercedes Owen.

I walk towards the line of chairs where a few people have already seated themselves. They're all so different. One of them had bright pink hair and a ring in her lower lip. She's chewing a piece of gum and staring at her nails as though she is bored. Beside her sits a girl who looks no older than 16. Her hands are tucked beneath her and it's clear that she is shaking. She's glancing at the floor as though looking for a distraction. I wonder how it's possible for 3 people to be so completely different, and yet be going through exactly the same thing.

It was almost 20 minutes before I was called. In that time, I'd read numerous leaflets, magazines that were battered and torn and newspapers that were months old. None of which managed to take my mind of it. I'd walked into the room still shaking. My hands hidden beneath my coat.

I was asked a few routine questions and constantly asked 'was I sure?' or 'Did I need more time?' apparently I looked uncertain. I just nodded. Satisfied I was prepared, I was handed the pill. _Mifepristone_ the label read. I lay my head down on the pillow that was beside me and allowed the tears to pour down my cheeks.

I wasn't sure how I was feeling once I walked out of the room. I was numb and alone. It wasn't until I was right in front of them, I noticed Jacqui and Tony. They had panicked expressions on their faces. Their eyes were filled with tears. Tony looked as though he was about to throw up. 'Tell me you haven't done it?' I hear Jacqui's shaky voice. I stare at her, willing my mouth to let me speak, but my throat is dry. I can't seem to do or say anything. My mind is fixed on the baby I'd lost. _My_ baby. Tony says something about Grace, and I feel my stomach churn. Part of me hates myself for putting him through that again, and part of me wants to slap him for even bothering to bring that up,

I watch as Jacqui crumbles into sobs, and is soon wrapped in Tony's embrace. She's looking at me, her eyes filled with hurt, anger and confusion. I'm expecting her to start screaming at me, to tell me what a selfish, heartless bitch I was. Instead she looks straight past me. _Straight through me. _She turns her back to me and walks out. I hear Tony follow after her, calling to her. Begging her to wait. I wait until I know they've gone, and slide onto a chair beside me. I place a protective hand over my stomach, and allow myself to grieve for the child I have lost.


End file.
